


weeds and memorials

by thenightskysighs



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Post-Mockingjay, everlark, the hunger games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenightskysighs/pseuds/thenightskysighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hands ran up her back, “We’ll live well enough,” He kissed the crown of her head. “To make their deaths count.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	weeds and memorials

She traced the aggravated red skin that clashed with the pale skin on his back, remembered the freckles that used to dot his shoulder blades, finding them marred and taken over by skin grafts and burns. A large swipe of angry pink that found a home on his bicep; another burn. Wound her fingers through the ashen blond hair that so desperately needed cutting.

 

She had been awake for hours now as Peeta snored quietly beside her, his fingers knotted around hers as she studied the scars that ran up and down his back; arms; palms, even his forehead.

 

For every scar she found on his body, she found one on hers. The burn mark on her right palm, a scar that ran along side his jaw, the healing skin graft on her left calf, moving her leg slightly and pushing against Peeta’s right, she realized he didn’t even have a left calf.

 

It almost seemed cruel, how they were thrown back into 12; told to move on with their lives when they had lost everyone they had any relationship with. Broken and battered with missing limbs and scars that ran for miles.

 

Katniss wanted to focus on this game of matching scars to get her mind off the inevitable; to listen to Peeta’s shallow breathing and watch how his wrinkles disappeared and how young he looked in his sleep. But every scar brought her back to the same day that she wanted nothing to do with. The same stupid day she wanted to forget.

 

Because her sister was dead. Her sister’s been dead for 2 years. _2 God-forsaken years._

And it was hard, it was just _hard_ to even live, to get up in the morning and perform simple, trivial tasks because she was _dead._ She wasn’t going to run through the door rattling on about school, she wasn’t going to be a healer like she wanted so badly to be, she was never going to get married. Or have kids. Katniss would never hear that laugh again, see that smile.

 

Katniss rolled over and slipped Peeta’s limp forearm over her shoulders and laid her head on his heart.

The Districts agreed on Remembrance Day. A day when the people of Panem relived the memories of the ones lost and cherished the freedom they were so desperate for and received.

 

But giving the day a title didn’t put Katniss at ease. If anything it sent her back where she started and that was the last thing she needed. And it wasn’t easy on Peeta, either. She could tell in his sleep he was uneasy. He grimaced and ground his teeth so hard Katniss shook him awake with a gentle tug and he folded her into his arms with a quiet sigh. No words needed to be exchanged because words couldn’t bring her dead sister back, her sister who would be 13 and half forever.

 

But sometimes it was the only option left.

 

“I miss her,” She couldn’t remember the last time she cried; really cried. When she completely lost it. “It’s not fair,” She pounded her small fist on Peeta’s bicep, rage and anger and grief making its way through her blood; old friends. His arms wrapped around her until her punching eventually stopped and she curled into his chest, wondering if she just burrowed a little deeper if she could eventually disappear.

 

“It isn’t fair.” Peeta returned; his voice strained with sleep and grief. She nodded, and his lips came to rest on her brow, comforting her in the best way he knew how. “Think about her life, Katniss. Think about the moments when she was unexplainably happy.”

 

It helped, sometimes, to focus on those fleeting moments of happiness her little sister experienced in her short years. And sometimes it was simply agonizing.

 

His fingers fiddled with the pieces of dark hair that fell out of her braid during the night and tucked them behind her ear, listening to her labored breaths as she tried to learn how to breathe again. It was hard, to sit there and watch her fall apart in his arms. He couldn’t bring back her sister, her father. She couldn’t bring back his family. So he kissed her cheekbone, and she moved her forehead against his nose until their lips touched and he tried to rip out the roots of her grief like a weed.

 

 

 

They came to the routine of watching the sun fall into the horizon on the porch every night, listening to the outside world tuck itself in. Katniss would curl her legs around Peeta’s left and he would wrap his arm around her shoulders. They would talk about trivial things, the bakery, her hunting, the restoration of 12.

 

She remembered when Peeta first told her that they had been given a chance to live well enough to make the deaths of their loved ones count. They had been working on the book for months now, including every detail they could remember, every painful, bittersweet detail was poured onto parchment paper and sealed with vows.

 

She slipped the heavy book onto a nearby bookshelf of the house and sighed, turning around she met Peeta’s embrace and he held her. She felt like they had buried another person; everything was on those papers. From the smile that adorned Prim’s face to the tributes Haymitch mentored almost 20 years ago.

 

His hands ran up her back, “We’ll live well enough,” He kissed the crown of her head. “To make their deaths count.”

 

She reached for the hand that was on her shoulder and interlocked their fingers; Peeta cast a glance in her direction and smiled softly. She dropped her head on his shoulder and felt like something was finally right for the first time a long while.

 

Her voice broke the peaceful silence that engulfed them. “Let’s have a toasting.” Peeta’s body tensed in shock and Katniss chuckled as he struggled for words. “You’re sure?” Peeta asked as the sun cast its final shades of yellow across the earth, hitting his blue eyes at just the right angle. Which somehow made the whole situation more endearing.

 

It wasn’t just because it’s what other people who were gone would want for her, it was because she wanted it; wanted him. She wanted Peeta to be the one that woke her up from the nightmares, who simply held her when it was too hard to even get out of bed. And she wanted to be the one to do the same for him. They had been spared from death for a reason she would never understand and she finally wanted to take advantage of that.

 

“Yes,” She brought the back of his hand that was still intertwined with her own to her lips. “I want to make some new promises.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
